dream recording 🔶 life flashing before your eyes

[noblegarnet]

Warnings: blood, death, past suicidal ideation, decapitation

—You have to go, angel, your mother urges you as she holds back tears, your father doing what he can to lift a fallen, crackling beam for you to go past, his glasses askew. The smoke is already horrible, the heat alone suffocating enough. Your right arm stings and throbs, blood dripping from your useless hand, but you can't afford to pay attention to it. Vision blurring—

I love you, you sob.

You barely remember stumbling through the fiery hallways. Something lands on your back at one point. You notice that the knob of the front door has burned your hand before you collapse.

You'd almost thought that was the end. Maybe it would have been easier if it had been. You still aren't sure how long you were unconscious at the hospital.

—The horrific, twisted whale fall pulses, choking you even through the breathing charms with its dark sickness. You're infected, you know, the plague taking advantage of your Fae nature, and you can already feel it crawling through your veins to get to the rest of you. You wait as the magical bomb is activated, even after the dragon calls for all of you to flee. A young woman with white hair takes you by the arm.

Now's not the time to throw your life away, she cries. Your argument doesn't last long, the explosion blinding you with blue light and breaking your fragile wings against your back as you try to protect your friend with your body, at least.

That wasn't it. The dragon caught you as you were all launched out of the ocean, and the medical witches cured you before the infection was irreversible. What would have happened if you died in another world, you wonder?

—Your best friend isn't with them, you notice. Curious, you turn your eyes about to find him, however bad a decision that might normally be when you're fighting the rest of the group—but it's not like they want to attack you, anyway. When you finally spot him, you see he's unnaturally obscured in shadow, aiming at the back of your guardian, the man who took everything from you and then became your family.

You use your new magic to teleport in the way, ignoring the strain of it. Nobody says anything to you before you're struck by the bolt shot by your best friend and your guardian's blade. Your vision goes white with pain and you collapse in the murderer's arms.

You survived then, too. He healed you, for all the good it did.

—I know you wouldn't want to hurt anyone like this.

A redheaded prince in a devilish costume torn by the same kind of gem shards your hands and legs have become stands in front of you, hesitating. You've sunk to your knees, head hung and waiting in your hopelessness, dark pools growing around you and threatening to create more monsters from your nightmares. You don't care. You don't care about anything, knowing there's no point. He will end it, finally.

He lifts his sword and lets it drop fully on the back of your neck, slicing through—cutting off your awareness of the rest of you, but you have just long enough to realize you no longer have a throat to scream—

NO, PLEASE

Ferran wakes in a panic.

Comments

[noblegarnet]

[As Hans steps closer, Ferran seems to relax, strangely; his trembling isn't about to stop just yet, but he feels himself edging away from his previous panic. Maybe if he's lucky, he won't break anything else tonight.

He takes a slow sip of the water to soothe his throat. It's not much, but he's trying not to overdo it in any way at the moment, and he feels... fragile in a way he hasn't been before, for all the fracturing that's been painted on his skin. He's finally looked over the cliff he's been dragged towards, and where he thought he could accept it before, now it feels like he actually understands what it means.

That's a bit much to say, at the question, when he's having trouble talking. It might not be fully sincere; Hans might not even want to know. Just another step in the "how to comfort someone" routine. But Ferran answers it after a deeper shaky breath, glad for his presence.]

Like... I'm barely here.

[He notices a smudge of ink from his hand has transferred to the glass, and watches it smear as he rubs it for the sake of something to do.]

[sleightofhans]

[It's normal to be wary and upset after having such a dream, that much is pretty understandable. He doesn't quite get why his presence is wanted, but at this point, Hans just accepts it. He's always considered himself to be very knowledgeable when it comes to reading others and figuring out their feelings, but that doesn't mean no one ever can confuse or surprise him.]

Still trapped in that dream? And yet you find my presence comforting.

[He really looks at Ferran now, and while the exhaustion on him is normal, the marks that have spread even further across his face is unusual. Probably not a good sign, that much is certain. With some perhaps surprisingly care, Hans lifts his hand to take Ferran's chin and tilt his face towards him. The prince still seems cold, almost methodical as he eyes those cracks.]

You've gotten worse.

[noblegarnet]

[Ferran turns his eyes to Hans at that somewhat judgmental remark—well, it's easy to take that way, anyway. Not that he expects any less; he knows he's made a lot of stupid decisions, and his attachment to this man might be one of them, too. It's alright.]

I don't want... to think of you like that.

[So to have the man here, as real as they can be, is more helpful than Hans might expect of his presence. It lets Ferran reassure himself that the man would much rather sit nearby and talk than send a sword through him. Hans can call him an idiot all night long, or hell—for the rest of their time in Reverein, and it would be better than never seeing him again if just for that reason.

He offers no resistance to the tilting of his chin, looking back into that passive expression with his own dull gaze. He doesn't have to look at himself to know it's gotten worse. It feels worse. The static in his head is louder, among other things.]

You remember what he said. Don't you?

[Mental or physical stress, the dream figment of Onyx had told Hans, in a reflection of Ferran's own understanding. Recalling one's own near-deaths doesn't make for the most peaceful of dreams, not to mention some of it was... new information again. Ferran turns his eyes away, almost distant as he speaks.]

I didn't... remember. Until now. Not really.

[sleightofhans]

[Ferran doesn't want to think of him as a cold-hearted killer, even if that's what he's really like. Granted, it's not a title that he's jumping to embrace, but Hans doesn't think he can deny such a thing, not after trying to harm Anna and everything. Given the chance, he's still confident that he would do the same, just ensure that his plan actually succeeds.

...He's sure.

But pushing those thoughts aside, mostly so that he can focus on Ferran, Hans examines his listless expression with an intensity that shows he's actually considering everything he's learned about him.]

I remember.

[He doesn't know if everything said in that dream is correct, but it's still something to consider. Hopefully, there is actually a way to combat Ferran's worsening condition.]

Tell me. Is there a way to actually fix this, to decrease these cracks? Or is it simply become 'less upset?'

[noblegarnet]

[The dullness to his eyes seems to lighten at the question, and he turns his attention back to Hans.]

I... I don't know.

[Though his voice is still a near-whisper, there's something yearning to it, like he wants there to be a solution but he's helpless to reach it. Maybe that's why he then physically reaches to place a trembling hand over Hans's wrist: so at least he can have something to ground him.]

He never told me anything. The dream was just... guessing. I only know what makes it worse... because I can feel it.

[It's never been fixed, or gotten better.]

[sleightofhans]

[His knowledge about magic is honestly rather limited still. If his cracks are truly caused by his own powers, rather than the effects caused by this world, the solution is probably out of reach. On the other hand, maybe it is just temporary distress, like how the ice started to form on his body during their last encounter. In that case, it's probably just... providing Ferran comfort.

...He can do that. There's no benefit not helping Ferran. As such, he doesn't pull his hand away from him, letting the contact rest.]

Of course he wouldn't tell you how to get better. And I'm not magically going to find a way to rid you of this.

[.....]

But you won't be alone.

[noblegarnet]

[A gentle warmth spreads out from that touch once Hans finishes his statement, the subtle scent of a forest with a strange underlying hint of something exotic following it.]

... thank you.

[He may not be able to shed any tears right now, but his eyes are glossy enough to suggest them despite the lack of expression on his face.]

That means a lot to me. [Whether Hans means it or not—but the man is probably well aware of both of those things. It's what Ferran needs to hear right now, to keep himself together. He leans sideways slightly, so that his shoulder touches the prince's, deciding he'll have to pay him back somehow in a more tangible way than gratitude.

Not to mention... he still has to make up for a certain other thing.]

I'm sorry... for reminding you of the nightmare. [He already wrote that apology, but he feels it's important to express properly.]

[sleightofhans]

[As irritating it has been for this world to openly display his emotions, it has in turn, made it easer for him to read people's reactions. Not that he would've second guessed himself on this decision, but the confirmation of Ferran's feelings via the warmth and scent is still nice to have. Of course, it doesn't stop there, with the young man outright stating his gratitude, but it's still... helpful. Nice

He doesn't move away from him still, even as their shoulders touch. Hans is already in this and he's not going to stop now. It's not like the contact is uncomfortable for him, although he wouldn't say it's entirely pleasant. He's handled far more and if this is what Ferran wants, he can sit here for a while.]

It's fine. I wasn't upset by it.

[That's only partially true, but Hans has gotten his feelings about that shoved aside. He emotionally prepared himself before coming here and he has a relatively tight control on it.]

Other than reminding me of that awful outfit that I wore during that time.

[noblegarnet]

[When Hans replies, Ferran's eyes stay on him, watching as intently as he's capable of at the moment, like he's looking for something more. But ultimately he can't tell, even if he has a decent guess that Hans isn't being fully honest about it. If the man hadn't ultimately confessed his worst crimes in response to that whole mess, he'd have no idea that Hans felt differently at all.

Ferran wonders if he'd ever admit to being upset about anything, as he turns his attention back to the glass of water, taking a slow sip. His one hand is steady enough he doesn't have to worry about spilling it quite as much as before, which is good, because he really doesn't want to move his other away from where it's resting against Hans's.

A breath leaves him in the barest echo of a laugh, if just to acknowledge the quip.]

I wish they'd stop. [They always come with a problem, and at this point, most of them got worse in a way that's impossible to forget. Even though he'd done his best to avoid everything to do with the tragic ends of those assigned certain roles, it wasn't something he could entirely escape.] Did you... get caught up in anything? In the last one?

[He'd hate to think that Hans was forced into yet another setting where he'd have to fake affection, only for it to end in a death that felt real. He understands now, the kind of effect dying in a dream here can have. Though... maybe there's also another reason he doesn't like the idea...]

[sleightofhans]

No, I was fortunate enough to escape that entire mess. Fortunate for me and the other person that would have to play my opposite.

[When that whole dream started, Hans can't deny the sheer relief he had when such a role was not assigned to him. For one, he'd rather avoid dying, and two, well... Ferran has probably figured it out already. There's no need to explain himself. Strange how he'd actually be successful in killing his 'lover' in that dream, but it wouldn't be something he'd actually want.

There's just no point to it, no benefit. That's all.]

I'm assuming that you weren't part of it either. Otherwise you'd also be having a nightmare about that.

[That's a grand assumption, and maybe a little mean, but Hans doesn't take back his words.]

[noblegarnet]

[Ferran nods slowly to confirm Hans's suspicions; if the remark is mean, he barely considers the idea. It's just Hans, and that's fine.]

Probably. [Well, more than probably. There's little doubt such a thing would have been reflected in a dream so fixated on the idea of dying.] But I think... that was part of why the nightmare.

[He knows how Romeo and Juliet ends, and the concept had only been made worse by the transformation aspect. Another traumatic reminder, for him.]

I couldn't stand to watch my friends suffer and die, but... that didn't stop it from happening. [He lets out a slow breath.] I'm glad you didn't.

[sleightofhans]

[It's not surprising to hear such an admission from Ferran. He's always caring about his friends-- about him, even if he's the one suffering. He won't let anything hurt them.

Although, he wonders about his situation back home. It's apparent that he's defending his 'guardian' from his friends, so does he still feel the same way there? Or does his guardian just mean far more to him?]

I'm sure I'll meet a terrible end at some point here.

[Hans is always so comforting. But hey, he doesn't seem bothered by the idea.]

[noblegarnet]

[Ferran's fingers curl around the man's wrist, gaze moving towards him but not quite rising to his face. He probably only further solidifies that thought of Hans's when he replies:]

Not if I can help it.

[It's still a quiet statement, though; he doesn't have the energy to back it up with the conviction he feels. But then, it's not much of a promise, is it? Ifs are such circumstantial things.]

[sleightofhans]

[He doesn't pull his hand away just yet, letting the contact remain. He'll grant Ferran that, if only to pull an expression that seems both surprised and worried, but in almost exaggerated manner. It's the lowest amount of effort he's giving to make himself seem believable, but it's not like he's trying to fool Ferran on this.

He just wants to ignore the small twinge in his chest upon hearing Ferran's resolution]

So, you'll sacrifice yourself for me in the future? Oh Ferran.....

[noblegarnet]

[After all the panic he just had about the idea of dying... would he?

Perhaps he'd do it without thinking. His instinct has made him reckless in the past, so it wouldn't be a surprise. But... saving Hans wouldn't necessarily mean he'd have to die for it, would it? After he takes another sip of his water, he replies:]

I can take a lot more hits than you can.

[He sees that overly dramatic expression and trades you a veiled insult.]

[sleightofhans]

[w o w

Ferran's going to receive a very flat look for that comment. What a punk bitch. Guess he should've expected such disrespect from him. Hans starts to pull away, mostly because he knows that Ferran wants contact and he's feeling petty enough to deny him.]

You say that with such confidence.

[noblegarnet]

[If Hans takes his hand away, Ferran will just make do with placing his hand on the man's knee instead. So there. And anyway—it's just a fact that he's sturdier, in his mind.]

Unless you have some secret powers that match my magic...

[He holds a hand up to indicate the marks on his wrist:]

It's not like I haven't paid for it.

[sleightofhans]

[While a part of him is tempted to shove Ferran's hand away, he ultimately decides to just leave it there. Maybe keeping him comfortable enough will help with the next topic, a small price for some information. In the end, Hans does want to know his magic and how useful it may be in the future.

His eyes track to the marks covering Ferran's wrist, not really knowing what they represent.]

What exactly does your magic do?

[And why is it killing you.]

[noblegarnet]

A few things.

[He lets his hand fall back to his lap.]

It makes me a lot stronger and faster... I can break bricks just with brute force, where I wouldn't be able to make a mark, normally.

[Just to give Hans an idea of just how big a change it is.]

And I can charm people... and copy things. Objects, I mean.

[sleightofhans]

[Useful abilities, most certainly. Being stronger and faster... not to mention the ability to copy objects, which probably includes weapons. However, what catches Hans's attention the most is the whole charm bit.

He arches a singular eyebrow at Ferran.]

When you speak about charming people... are you implying that you're making them like you? [And more than that...] Forcing them to do something against their wishes?

[noblegarnet]

[Ferran doesn't answer with a direct yes or no, but the way he diverts his gaze and responds makes it clear enough.]

It's not something I like to use.

[His voice is lower, quiet. There are a number of issues he has with that kind of power. It's a lot of responsibility, for one.]

[sleightofhans]

[Hans stares down at Ferran's lowered expression, noticing that his demeanor almost seems forlorn. There's a possibility that he's used it on people here, and maybe it's some strange self-loathing that he reacted so harshly when he was shooting love arrows at everyone. It would explain quite a few things.

He decides to test something, and so with a tone that's a mixture between cruel and curiosity:]

Used it on me, haven't you?

[Is Hans actually asking? Who knows.]

[noblegarnet]

[There's a distinct look of pain that comes to his face with that question; even if Hans is merely joking at his expense, it's rarely a thought that's far from his mind: whether his powers have been acting without his permission or knowledge. His jaw is tense, and he takes a slow breath to push past the ache in his chest.]

Is that your [fucked up] way of saying you like me?

[sleightofhans]

[...Guess he walked right into that one, Hans can admit it. As such, why bother denying his comment at all? Besides, it hasn't escaped his notice that his remark actually struck something in Ferran and he doesn't actually want him to feel terrible.

You know, in case he needs to ask for a favor that involves Ferran's charm powers. He can give a little.]

I do like you, Ferran. [...] On the first day we met.

[noblegarnet]

[Although Ferran regards the man with a dull expression, his hand curls around Hans's wrist into a proper grip.]

Yeah, right. I wasn't exactly nice to you at the time.

[Almost dying kind of puts people in a bad mood, generally.]